Segregation
by myrtlemurrs
Summary: Once we were young children.. - Now we're broken toy soldiers- Criminals on all sides. Missing partners. At war with a crumbling city, the people too will turn. Mature for sexual themes/language. R&R-
1. Prologue

**Hello friends! New story, it will have more chapters, please R &R, and have a good day!**

Damian dragged his feet across the cave floor, lugging his Katanas carelessly as he wiped his face. He slammed the door to the gym shut, with his green eyes murderous. His dark mood startled Tim, who had draped himself across the chair to the Batcomputer.

"Aren't you in a good mood," Tim deadpanned, not looking at the smaller boy. Damian bit back a snarl.

"I am in a perfectly marvelous mood, _Drake._ And your sardonic incompetence is not required at this moment. " He stalked off to the showers, subconsciously rubbing at his face.

Lovely, the squirt was in a mood, and he was stuck with him. He glanced at the boys vanishing figure, then back to the screen.

 _Aw hell. Why couldn't Dick have stayed here?.._

Shaking loose of his thoughts, he settled back in to work. Bane was on a rampage in the downtown slums, and was slinging homeless bums in the narrows across whole city blocks. _Why,_ Tim wasn't quite sure. The beast of a man never really paid attention to civilians unless he was taking one hostage.

He pressed the com in his ear, eyeing the map of Batman and Nightwing's current locations.

 **"Red Robin here. Come in Nightwing."**

 _"Nightwing here, over. What's the status on Two-Face?"_

Tim blinked. Two-Face was in Arkham, and hadn't escaped in months.

 **"Uh, That doesn't compute, Two-Face isn't-"**

Static crackled over the com, indicating Dick had either broken it, or lost it, which was fairly common for the First Robin.

 _Great._

Damian stomped back in scrubbing at his hair with a towel, with Titus at his heels. "Attempting to solve something stressing for your weak mind, I assume."

 _That doesn't even make sense._

"Not now, Hell-spawn. Dick just said something about Two-Face. Who is in Arkham, currently."

Damian stepped over by his chair and crossed his arms, glaring at the screen. "Are there any police reports on Two-Face?"

"No, and nothing from Arkham, no alerts, no warnings.. Dick didn't even elaborate."

"Speak with him on the com, Drake. Or is that too difficult?" The boy's face was jeering now, trying to rile him.

Tim's voice was clipped and curt. "I _can't,_ Damian, Dick lost his com before I could find out what's going on." He sighed, turning away from the computer and standing. "Something's wrong, and communications are cut, at least with Dick."

Damian's young face quirked, and he plopped himself into the chair Tim had abandoned. "What about Father? He knows to answer his com."

"Haven't tried him yet."

"Tt. With your irate stupidity, it's a wonder you haven't died yet, Drake." Damian activated the com to Batman's line, placing it in his ear and dropping his towel.

 **"Robin speaking. Come in Batman."**

 _"Robin, Two-Face is out and teaming with Bane. He's on the North side._

 **"But ho-"**

 _"Robin, listen. You and Red Robin need to go after him, Bane is keeping civilians hostage and Nightwing and I are caught up here. But be careful, Two-Face has a b-"_

The com cut short, leaving static in its place. Damian shut off the com, setting it on the desk with a soft clink.

Tim was pacing, with Titus in step with him. Damian glared at his pet, who joyfully bounced alongside Drake.

"Well?"

Damian didn't answer immediately, but chose to pull his shirt on, and pick up the towel he had dropped.

"It's.."

Tim turned to look at him curiously, pausing his pacing. Titus snuffled one of the older boy's hands, wagging his tail.

"It's up to us. Bane has Nightwing and Batman occupied in the narrows on the East side, and Two-Face is out wreaking havoc on the North side." The boy paused, thoughtfully choosing his next words. "He said Two-Face had a something."

Tim raised a brow, his face unmoving. "A something?"

"Yes, but Father was cut short. His voice sounded as though it was going to say 'Bomb,' but he did not get past the first letter."

 _Fuck._

"Then suit up.. I guess it's up to us." Tim ran his fingers through his hair, absentmindedly patting the great dane, then went to pull his gear on.

Silently running across the roof, a lithe figure ducked into the large air vent with the grace of a cat. She silently stalked through the vents, looking at a small map periodically. A few more turns, and she removed a grate beneath her, dropping through the ceiling. The whole building was on lockdown, but this section was undisturbed, thanks to her distraction at the other end.

Criminals leered at her as she clicked down the hallway, with her stilettos being the only noise made. The soft sound woke men in their cells. She made it to the end, placing a small device on the keypad of a heavy steel door. Men crooned from their cells, eyeing her body like a piece of meat. She kept herself in the center of the hallway, perfectly out of reach from their hungry eyes and grasping arms. The light on the keypad turned green with a soft beep, and she opened the door just enough for her to enter, removing the device on the keypad as she did.

The door behind her drew closed with a dull thud. She was in a higher security area now. She lashed her whip at the security camera in the corner, ripping it from its base in the wall. It shattered into the door behind her. She wasn't worried; they said the room was soundproof. Steel doors with small windows passed her, and as she drew up to the cell of her choice, she placed the device on the new keypad.

"Hey, handsome." Her voice purred sarcastically.

"You're late, my dear." The voice on the other side rasped. "Did you collect my things?"

The keypad beeped green softly, and she pulled the door open.

She swung a bag to the man, and turned away, leaning against the wall. He exited a moment later, with a devious look on his burlap face.

"Come on, Crane, we have work to do. You owe me for this." She reopened the steel door to the main area, stepping out first.

It was quiet. She turned about, only to receive a puff of dusty, foul air in her face. "Wha-"

Scarecrow tucked the vial back into his sleeve, grinning like a madman. "You shouldn't have gone first, my dear."

Her body convulsed, and her vision distorted, leaving her curled up in a ball on the floor, struggling for air and muttering unknown things. _Fear gas._ Her last thoughts left her as she succumbed to the world of horror.

He shoved her body close to one of the large cells, just barely out of the men's reach. Shouts of anger were mute on him. He climbed back into the vent she had left open, along with the convenient map.

Insane giggles echoed down the vent. As a parting thought, he dropped a vial down into the room, and listened to the glass shatter. Quickly closing the vent and sealing it, he turned and began his-albeit bumpy-journey to the outside world.


	2. Civil Enemies

Hello, friends! Thanks to my followers for enjoying the first chapter! Sorry for the awkward update, more will come soon. Enjoy!

Robin hated working with his predecessor. The teen bothered him to no end, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was terrified of him. His attempted murder on the young man had proved fruitless not just once, but _twice-_ and had brought nothing but distrust and hatred by the family on his shoulders. Shoulders that bore too much weight.

His motorbike followed Red Robin's as they tore through the night, cutting through alleyways in a hurry, as a flurry of police reports babbled in their ears.

 **'** **Two-Face has blown up the East State Bank of America-'**

 **'** **More than twenty hostages inside-'**

 **'** **Over five deaths reported s-'**

 **'** **Bane is being knit into a corner by Batman and Nig-'**

 **'** **Scarecrow on the loose, coming in contact with Two-Face at Athena Plaza-'**

Robin swallowed the lump rising in his throat. He gazed upward, staring at the rooftops. His grip on the handlebars tightened, and he suppressed a snarl rising from his chest. An extremely distinctive red helmet sat on the edge of an apartment building.

Him. The founding member of the 'Dead Robins' club.

His knuckles were white beneath the gloves, and he ground his teeth, seething internally. The scoundrel was back in Gotham. The whites of his mask muted into slivers, and a buzzing noise brought him to attention.

"What the FUCK RO-" His eyes jerked downward at the shout from Red Robin. His motorcycle slammed into the back of Red Robin's, and he flipped over the handle bars, not quite registering what happened.

His face lurched into the ground, skidding a good foot before his body followed, launching him into a somersault.

He slammed into something warm. Groggily raising his head, he glanced back at the wreckage. His bike's front end was a mess, with the tire bent sideways.

"Uhhg..." The legs shifted beneath him. He glanced at their owner, Timothy Drake.

Oh. At the very least, his fall was cushioned.

"Are you alright, Red Robin?" He scrambled off his predecessors legs, and checked his pulse.

"M'fine… Red Robin sat up, taking in the scene, with a cursory safety check. One _fairly unscathed_ Robin, One damaged motorbike, and one totaled motorcycle.

 _Damn it._

He stood, tugging the remains of his motorcycle out from under the motorbike.

"Damn it, Damian…" He swore to himself. The boy said nothing, but chose to look at an interesting rock on the ground.

 _Count a hundred, Tim, count a hundred._ He remembered something Alfred had said at one point. _It would take a fucking recitation of pi._

It was all Damian's fault. He couldn't keep his mouth shut, couldn't behave, and couldn't go a day without trying to murder him. It wasn't fair. The little shit deserved to die.

No, not death. Pain, yes, but not death.

 _I can do pain._

He turned, grabbing the younger boy by the chin, and yanking him close before Damian could understand what was happening. "What the actual FUCK, ROBIN! Are you fucking INSANE?"

Damian looked angry. _Good._ "Piss off, DRA-" His shout was muffled by the older tugging him into a headlock and covering his mouth with a gloved hand.

"Not a word from you."

Tim was _pissed. FURIOUS._ How could the boy be so reckless? Now they were two miles away from their intended target, with no means of transportation, no backup, and no plan.

 _Livid_ was more like it.

Damian managed to elbow him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. The younger rolled out with ease, then slammed a sidekick into Tim, slamming the older teen into a pillar in front of a store shop.

Tim's eyes burned with a raging flame. He turned before Damian could land a punch to the nose, and kneed him in the side, making Damian lurch sideways, losing his balance and landing on the sidewalk. Tim twisted him into an armbar, brutally applying more pressure than necessary. _I'll just let him squirm, no big deal._

But Damian kept twisting, churning like a fish on a frying pan, with his teeth set. Finally, he bit down on an artery in Tim's leg, eliciting a muffled howl from his predecessor. Tim pulled back with all his body weight, momentarily blind from all but the pain, taking Damian's arm with him.

A horrifying **_'SNAP'_** followed, along with a voice-breaking scream from the smaller boy, before he went rabid, squirming wildly to get free.

Tim let go as soon as he heard the horrifying crack of bone, but the damage was done. He fell on his back, ignoring the bits of broken glass from the motorbike poking his scalp. Damian's voice squeaked as he gasped, rolled heavily onto his side, and was still, save the unsteady, hitched breathing.

Tim gazed at the sky, catching his breath. _Well that went horribly. So much for letting the brat squirm._

Crunching of boots perked his ears, and he quietly rose, crouching by Damian protectively, and shielding him with his cape.

A red hood came into view, crossing the street. _Fuck. I don't have time for this. I gotta get him home, and take down-_

"Hot Damn, babybird, that didn't go so well, did it?" The Red Hood commented, leaning against a pillar several feet away.

"'Hood. Can I help you?" Their relationship was civil, sure, but the Red Hood was a dangerous man.

"I don't know, it seems like ya' could use some help with the baby brat there." He could feel Damian stiffen. _Damn it, Damian, stay still._

"We have to get to Athena plaza. Two-Face is loose and-"

Red Hood cut him off. "-So's Scarecrow, yeah. I don't think the kid is cut out for that kinda work right now, tho'."

Tim rose to his full height, eyeballing The Red Hood. "Scarecrow?"

Damian gripped Tim's cape with one good hand, and stood shakily. He had gotten a few good hits on him, but he wasn't _that_ brutal, was he?

"I-" The boy exhaled deeply, glaring murderously at Red Hood. "Am perfectly fine."

A flat out lie and they all knew it. His face was half shredded from face-planting into the pavement, and the domino mask was ripped by one eye. Damian awkwardly to the side and let go of Red Robins cape, stepping away to create some distance.

Red Robin glanced away awkwardly. "We have to get to Athena Plaza."

Red Hood quirked a brow, although no one could see it. "I think Short-Stack needs a bit of medical attention."

With that, he stepped forward in one fluid motion, and scooped up the Boy Wander, as Tim stepped back in a mix of amazement and horror.

Damian immediately squawked in disdain, and struggled against the man, wiggling in his arms. "LeT Me GO- MHRUHHRR!"

Jason held him with one arm, and kept the boys broken arm tucked by his body. Keeping his free hand tightly clamped over the boys mouth, he nodded his head in the direction of his safehouse, and Tim followed, dragging as much of the wreckage as he could.

As Damian wiggled about, he quietly remembered why he didn't like the kid much.


End file.
